


The Point of a Sword

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Lewis (TV), Masterpiece Mystery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:45:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DI Robbie Lewis and DS James Hathaway are investigating a murder. Their investigation leads them to the home of Professor Jaime Lannister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Point of a Sword

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuizzicalQuinnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/gifts).



> To QuizzicalQuinnia for always being there to listen. (And because I am totally blocked on Paddington.)

D.S. James Hathaway eyed D.I. Robbie Lewis as they pulled up to the well-apportioned terraced house in Oldtown.

“Who is this professor again?” Lewis asked.

Hathaway pulled out his notebook. “Jaime Lannister. Apparently he’s the foremost authority in Oldtown on medieval weaponry.”

“Lannister you say?”

Hathaway nodded.

“Why is that name familiar?” Lewis asked.

Hathaway flipped through his notebook. “The widow of the deceased is Cersei Baratheon née Lannister.”

“Any relation to this professor?”

Hathaway pulled out his mobile and tapped on the screen. “Twins, apparently.”

“So this Cersei Lannister Baratheon might have had access to the ancient sword we found sticking out of her husband’s back.”

Hathaway nodded before tapping his mobile again. “Still no word from the lovely Dr. Hobson on cause of death.”

Lewis grimaced. “How did Laura describe this Lannister again?”

Hathaway grinned. “I believe the word she used was ‘dishy.’”

Lewis grumbled. “Well, nothing for it. Grab the sword and let’s go speak with the _dishy_ Jaime Lannister.”

The door of the house was opened by the ugliest woman Hathaway had ever seen. She was tall, broad-shouldered, with thick lips, thin hair and a jagged scar running along one cheek. Her bright blue eyes seemed wrong in such a face.

He flashed his badge and introduced himself and Lewis. “We are looking for a Professor Jaime Lannister.”

The woman nodded and invited them in. “I am Brienne Tarth. Mr. Lannister’s assistant.”

The room was cluttered with books and papers, like any Oldtown don’s, but the walls were decorated with weapons enclosed in glass cases. Hathaway scanned for empty slots and found none. He turned to Ms. Tarth only to have a movement catch her eye.

A man stood in the doorway to what Hathaway assumed was the kitchen. Longish hair, golden, eyes green, like his sister, but that’s where the similarities ended. He had the sort of chiseled jaw that could cut glass, complete with stubble and a body that looked more suited to sword-fighting that sword-studying. Hathaway could understand why Hobson thought him handsome.

Lewis moved forward, hand outstretched and introduced himself. The golden-haired man looked at Lewis’ hand disdainfully.

“Inspector Lewis一” the Tarth woman began before Lannister cut her off, waving his right arm in the air, the sleeve of his shirt folded over at the wrist.

“Sorry not to shake, but you can see I’m a hand short,” Lannister said in a particularly snide tone.

“Jaime, this is D.I Lewis and D.S. Hathaway,” the woman made the introductions. “This is Jaime Lannister.”

Lewis drew back his hand abashedly, “Sorry. I wasn’t aware. Mind if I er...”

Lannister crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. He raised a brow as Lewis trailed off.

The silence stretched.

The woman spoke again, “Jaime lost his hand last year in a mugging.”

Lannister stood straight and looked at the woman. Their eyes locked. He smiled before turning to Lewis, his head cocked. “Her mugging actually. I was playing the hero.”

“Stupidly,” the woman murmured, so low that Hathaway only barely caught it, but Lannister seemed to hear it loud and clear and grinned at her.

Lannister turned to them then, “How can I help the local constabulary? Need perhaps,” he paused before catching the woman’s eye again, “a hand.”

She rolled her eyes this time and motioned for them to sit down.

Lewis nodded to Hathaway who removed the cloth covering the clear plastic evidence bag containing the sword. “We were hoping you could help us identify this?”

The woman was up in a shot, reaching out for the sword.

Hathaway shot her a questioning look.

“He’s going to need to see it up close. I’ll not remove it from the bag,” she explained.

Hathaway handed her the sword and she moved it over to a table by the windows, the most natural light in the room.

Lannister had moved to stand by the table, pulling a set of glasses from somewhere to perch on his nose. He studied the sword a moment before looking up at the woman. “Targaryen era, wouldn’t you say, Wench?”

She inspected the hilt through the plastic. “Targaryen era novelties maybe.”

Their eyes locked again and Lannister grinned. He turned to speak to Lewis. “This is a very well-done, and probably expensive, fake.”

“You can tell just like that?” Lewis asked.

“Brienne?” Lannister prompted his assistant.

The woman blushed and bit her lip. “It’s not the craftsmanship or even the age of the materials. It’s the design. It has the Targaryen dragon motif here,” she explained, pointing at the design on the crossguard, “but it’s entwined with the Baratheon stag. It’s clearly a fake.”

“Perhaps you could be a bit more specific?” Hathaway prompted.

Lannister turned to them and spoke, “Think of your histories. Targaryens hate Baratheons and vice versa. The design of the blade is Targaryen era, but the combined motif wouldn’t have been used until at least two centuries later. And the dragon’s eyes are emeralds, not one ruby, one onyx as was the Targaryen tradition of the time. It’s a mishmash of different periods. Beautiful. Expensive. But not ancient.”

Tarth nodded and handed the sword back.

Lannister spoke to Lewis again, “So, my turn for questions. Was that weapon used in a murder?”

Lewis raised his brow, “Now why would you ask that?”

Lannister laughed. “Well, the police on my doorstep, carrying a sword in a plastic bag that just happens to have dried blood on the blade.”

Lewis gave a small smile. “Fair enough. It was used in a murder. A man by the name of Robert Baratheon.”

The woman inhaled sharply.

Lannister closed his eyes. “So that explains Cersei’s text.”

The woman placed her hand on Lannister’s arm.

Hathaway took his cue and began questioning, “Your sister texted you?”

Lannister nodded.

“And?” Lewis prompted.

Lannister closed his eyes and intoned, “ _Come at once. Help me. Save me. I need you as I have never needed you before. I love you, I love you, I love you. Come at once._ ”

Hathaway held out his hand for Lannister’s mobile. “May I?”

Lannister locked eyes with the Tarth woman and the side of his mouth quirked up. “I deleted it.”

“Deleted it?” Lewis raised his brow. “That kind of message from your twin sister? Begging for your help?”

Lannister pierced him with a green graze and lifted his right arm again, “I haven’t spoken to Cersei since shortly after this happened.” He turned to the woman, “What did she call me, Wench? Was it ‘useless cripple’?”

“Jaime一” the woman began.

Lannister cut her off, “No. Cersei and I don’t speak. I didn’t respond to her text.” He did hand over his mobile then.

Hathaway ran his fingers over the screen. Lannister had few contacts and his call log for the last twenty-four hours only showed calls to someone labeled ‘Wench’ that he could only assume was the Tarth woman as the number did not match that of any of the Baratheons. He returned the phone. “No texts or calls, Sir,” Hathaway informed Lewis.

Lewis nodded. “Anything more you can tell me about the sword?”

Lannister inhaled and moved towards the window. “It’s the sort of thing Robert Baratheon would have loved.”

The woman placed herself between Lewis and Lannister, as if to protect him.

“Where were you last night between midnight and three a.m.?” Lewis asked.

Lannister smiled and walked towards the woman slipping both arms around her thick waist. “We had dinner around nine, did the dishes, watched a movie and then fucked on the couch.” The woman’s face flamed. Lannister continued. “We crawled in bed around one, fucked again and fell asleep around what time, Wench? Two-thirty?”

Hathaway raised his brows and caught Lewis’ eyes. Lewis shrugged.

Brienne Tarth blinked slowly, clearly mortified. “You could have just said we had dinner and went to bed.”

Lannister chuckled. “Well, yes, I _could_ have. But that would mean we are each other’s only alibi and they don’t know how tediously honorable you are and how you are completely incapable of telling a convincing lie.”

She turned to him, eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t mean一”

Lewis cleared his throat. The couple turned to him. “So, you _are_ each other’s only alibi?” he asked.

The woman blushed harder than Hathaway would have thought possible. “No,” she ground out.

Lannister grinned. “Brienne, here, is a screamer.” She slowly and deliberately stepped on his foot, but he went on unrepentant. “Woke up the dogs belonging to that old bat Tyrell to the back of us. Woman called the house to complain. Twice. I told her to fuck off. If she won’t verify it, the phone records will.” Lannister kissed the side of her bright red neck and she turned to face him, cupping his elbows with her large hands. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, the dishy Lannister and this lumbering beast of a woman, but they seemed a perfect fit.

“Tyrell, to the back, you say?” he asked.

Brienne Tarth turned to face him, but Lannister kept his arms around her, encircling her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Well, then, do you know anyone who might have had a grudge against your brother-in-law?” Lewis asked.

The Tarth woman’s hands moved to cover Lannister’s and she squeezed just as Hathaway’s mobile went off. He read the text and turned to Lewis.

“Hobson, Sir. Apparently the sword didn’t kill him. It was poison,” Hathaway announced.

Lewis heard Brienne Tarth inhale sharply and could have sworn Lannister murmured something like, “A woman’s weapon.” He turned to them both. “What was that?”

Lannister closed his eyes briefly before focusing on Lewis. “ _Cersei_. If anyone wanted Robert dead, it was my sister.”

Lewis raised a brow.

Lannister twined his fingers with Tarth’s and continued. “She’d been having an affair, affairs really. The Kettleblack brothers ...the folk singer they call Moon Boy.”

Hathaway took out his notebook and scribbled down the names.

Tarth spoke up then, “You need to understand about Cersei一”

Lannister snorted. “Are you really going to make excuses for her? After all the horrible things she said to you?”

Tarth turned her head to him, “Words are wind, Jaime.” She turned back to Lewis. “Robert Baratheon was abusive. He’d hit her, but never where you could see.”

“You didn’t try to get her out? Get her help?” Hathaway asked.

Lannister snorted. “Of course, but Cersei always made her own decisions. Divorcing Robert would have meant losing the house, the title, the status and the power. Cersei loved being Lady Robert Baratheon. She’ll love being the Widow Baratheon even more. She may have regretted her decisions,” he tightened his arms around Brienne Tarth’s waist, “but I’ve never regretted mine.”

Hathaway’s mobile vibrated again. “Sir, there’s a Lancel Lannister at the station. Wants to confess.”

Lewis turned to the couple, “Any relation?” he asked.

Lannister sighed, “A cousin and another of Cersei’s ‘special friends.’”

Lewis nodded.

“Thank you for the information, Professor Lannister, Ms. Tarth,” Hathaway brought the interview to a close.

“You can show yourselves out,” Lannister dismissed them.

As they opened the door, they heard Lannister say clearly, “Come on, Wench, it’s old lady Tyrell’s naptime, let’s ruin it.”

“Now? I mean with everything about Cersei,” she replied.

Lewis stopped, placing his finger on his lips, waiting to hear more.

“Cersei who?” Lannister responded, his voice deep and gravelly.

“Jaime,” Brienne Tarth moaned.

Hathaway shot Lewis a grin as they closed the door behind them.


End file.
